


there's no chance of reconciling us

by jester_meister



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Child Abandonment, Fun, Gen, Mild Blood, Panic Attacks, Post Doomsday, Pre-TommyInnit's Exile (Video Blogging RPF), References to Ancient Greek Religion & Lore, Sleepy Bois Inc Angst, Trauma, and War!!, can u tell i cope w panic attacks by writing poetic pretentious shit abt panic attacks, exactly, funky sailor man tries to find wife while gods fuck w him occasionally, god i love the odessey, i think, its great, no beta we die like technobalde, oo sbi angst tag pog??, the holy trinity of things tommy has been thru in this fic lmao, we dont, what even is timeline
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-17
Updated: 2021-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-26 14:33:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30107439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jester_meister/pseuds/jester_meister
Summary: Iliad and Odyssey need their Homer, right?Or, Tommy loses and Techno regrets.
Relationships: Technoblade & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), but i make them sad :D
Comments: 3
Kudos: 74





	there's no chance of reconciling us

**Author's Note:**

> god all i know is pain. n e way tws for kinda=panic-attacks-kinda-getting-overwhelmed, blood mention, techno isnt viewed as a villain but he sure as hell isnt good either.
> 
> also obligatory 'this is abt the chars not the ccs, if they want me to take this down i will, dont shove anything i write into ccs faces or i will liquify your eyeballs, etc etc', ive said this before and its all still true.im tired, lets project onto c!tommy

Tommy is cold. The crater is so cold and yet so warm, the burning hot gunpowder that still lingers in the air boiling so different to the freezing bedrock that juts out of the bottom. It’s been so long since he’s been here, and yet the wounds still feel fresh. 

Footsteps echo down, and he doesn’t bother to look up and see who it is. If they’re going to kill him, they should at least have the courtesy to let him fight back, and so he waits expectantly for a sword to take its place at his neck.

Surprisingly enough, instead of just any blade, it’s The Blade himself, who sits down cross-legged next to him, bumping their shoulders together the way he always used to when they were kids.

Those were nicer times- domestic chaos and peace, instead of the ravaged grasslands and the constant betrayals. 

He briefly thinks about how they would sit on the dock together when Techno came back from missions with Phil, the strum of a guitar drifting across the water as they talked about trivial things; not war plans or screaming matches, just what they had done every day (Techo had always made sure to keep some of the more gory details out of his recaps) or what they would call their empires when they got old enough to own their own. 

After a second, he pushes the thought away- those times are gone now, and he has to adapt to fit them.

“You know why I had to do it, right?” The words are said with a small smile as if he’s expecting to be forgiven, and a little head tilt like he’s just made some kind of joke.

But this isn't a joke anymore. Back on SMP Earth, sure, maybe there were still  _ some  _ hard feelings about Techno and Phil destroying Wilbur’s pride and joy, but they had moved past it. It was supposed to be a one-time thing, and it definitely wasn’t supposed to happen again.

Even though Wilbur had been the one to destroy his own creation that day, Techno should have known better. Techno should have been there for his brothers, brought together the family instead of tearing it apart.

He just shrugs, not wanting to open his mouth for fear of the words that would escape him.

“Glad to know we’re on the same page,” His older brother smiles, “You know, I remember when I would protect you and Wilbur from the thunderstorms. You were scared of the lightning and Wilbur hated the thunder.” He gives another chuckle, the nostalgia painting his face making Tommy have to clench his fist, “You would come into my room and hide under the covers, and I would read to you until the storms passed. Homer, remember?”

A smile tugs at his face, and he feels a slight rush of joy at the memories. He speaks, voice ridden with a kind of wistful sadness, “Yeah. You would always do really dramatic voices for all the characters and act out the scenes. You always looked stupid but you did it anyway because it made us laugh.”

He shoves Techno when he flicks a bit of gravel at him, laughing slightly at the indignant look on his face and then settling down when he spoke, “The Iliad was always your favourite.”

“And Wilbur’s was The Odyssey. Said he liked ‘how human it was’, which was fuckin pretentious because it was literally about gods screwing with some guy.” He ignores the little voice in his head that insists he knows  _ exactly  _ what Wilbur meant. 

But Odysseus, while he did struggle, presumably had a happy ending, so he can’t liken himself to it enough.

Techno laughs and swings his legs over the edge, kicking them mindlessly and shifting slightly so his axe doesn’t dig into his back. “Yeah. He was always a bit mad, especially about his metaphors. We loved him for it though.”

Tommy’s suddenly filled with a wave of bitter anger, one that chokes him with its toxicity and makes it hard to breathe without smelling the sour citrus and acidic smoke. Techno shouldn’t be able to talk about Wilbur like that, not without hearing heavy breathing that echoes in a cavern or insane ramblings that were so close and yet so far from the angry rants about anteaters that would happen years before his brother started spiralling.

Techno wasn’t there for him when all of this was happening. He was only there to help tear it all down.

“You okay, Theseus?”

His head is screaming at him. “I’m fine.”

It’s too cold and he’s too close to Techno and everything is too much, too much, too much, “You need to go.”

“Seriously, what’s up with you? You were fine a second ago.”

Tommy wants to yell at him that he should  _ leave,  _ it’s what he’s best at after all, but all that comes out is a strained whisper, “Please just go.”

Techno blew it up. Techno and Wilbur blew it up and it’s gone. Wilbur is gone. Techno has no right in uttering Wilbur’s name when he wasn’t there to tell stories during L’Manberg’s thunderstorms, wasn’t there to help them learn how to use tridents (they had only gotten up to swords when Techno had left them in this new server), wasn’t there to console him when his first pet died, wasn’t there to meet Tubbo on good terms and make fun of Tommy together, wasn’t there to rip Dream to shreds for agreeing to a duel with a literal child, wasn’t there to stop Wilbur from spiralling into insanity, wasn’t there wasn’t there wasn’t there-

Someone is staring at him, and he looks up from where he had curled up into a ball to see Techno's gaze locked on him, pain and regret (and maybe some kind of pride because finally his actions have been noticed, finally he has been listened to, even though it was at the price of everything his baby brother held dear) swimming in his eyes like rancid tears. 

He supposes that he had said some of that out loud, but he doesn’t have the energy to be embarrassed or upset or angry.

Instead, he just mutters a quiet, “Please leave,” and watches as his brother turns and walks back up to the edge of the crater, pausing for a second before taking out his trident and flying away in the light drizzle, the only remnants of his appearance being the footprints in the dust and the younger brother he left behind.

* * *

Techno doesn’t have many regrets.

He’s a being of pure chaos, someone who thinks and then acts and then thinks again in a confusing paradox much like the chicken and the egg- which one does he do first? (He doesn’t quite know either.)

He has torn down empires and slain entire battalions, led soldiers to war and been the only one left, seen people suffer with sick amusement just for the fun of it. And okay, maybe he can be a little twisted at times, but people respawn. Governments take a little longer to be remade.

Or so he thought.

He didn’t regret blowing up L’Manberg, not fully. It was a price that they all had to pay, a lesson they all had to learn on the fragility of trust and the festering of greed. He remembers a girl standing on a broken bridge, pink hair dark enough to mimic the red of the flames she lit herself. He remembers a friend, a foe, a brother, who had a sword ripped through his chest by his own father. 

These people knew the score.

Techno doesn’t regret.

But god, seeing his little brother, the one that he swore to protect, the one that he  _ left  _ in this unfamiliar server with empty promises of return, the one he never got to see grow up, in this much pain? This broken, devoid of all the anger that made Tommy himself? This hopeless? It makes him regret.

Both of Tommy’s homes are gone. And Techno has destroyed both of them.

**Author's Note:**

> yoyo ty 4 reading!!
> 
> also might fuck around and write a hugeass thing abt wilbur being taken by the sky gods and finding his way back home w even more odysseus refs because i am the odyssey _trash_ would anyone want to read that?
> 
> comments > kudos but both of them elict the big happy feeling bcz hhghrrr i need validation from the internet >:( /j its okay if u dont leave anything tho!! imm glad to have u here anyway :D
> 
> n e way go follow me on my slightly dead tumblr, @princetalifabulousme, i post quackity apologist propaganda and. cry
> 
> <3


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